you never said i love you
by wayytoodeepin
Summary: It's finally come to the point where Oikawa has really pushed himself too far, too hard and is forced to quit the team. He's trying to pick up all the broken pieces, but all the jagged edges don't fit and the dreams just won't stop. Or: Iwaizumi struggles with his newly awakened libido when it comes to his best friend. (basically fluff, angst, and then more fluff, in diff POVs.)
1. Chapter 1

It's late. It's late and Oikawa still isn't back yet, and Iwaizumi grumbles to himself, flinging on a coat as he stumbles out of the house onto the sidewalk, rubbing his bloodshot eyes blearily. He spends almost every day studying until he can barely open his eyes. University, and all that.

The walk to school isn't very long, but it's cold, and his nose is red and burning with the sharp sting of a familiar cold. The gym lights are on, and he pauses outside of the door for a moment, listening to the sound of volleyballs hitting the ground with a solid smack, full of a raw power and a precision Iwaizumi can already visualize in his head.

He enters just as Oikawa is in the middle of a jump serve, his body arched and slick with sweat, glinting in the harsh artificial light of the gym, arm raised over his head as he sends the ball barreling over the net, slamming into the ground so hard the sound rings in his ears. Oikawa lands, and Iwaizumi doesn't miss the way his knees tremble and threaten to give way under him, or the telltale flicker of pain that vanishes as he straightens.

Iwaizumi can see the beginnings of the same old well-practiced smile form on his face, and it's horribly fake and just pisses Iwaizumi off because this idiot insists on hurting himself yet still pretends that everything is all right. Like hell.

"Stop it. Don't smile if you don't mean it, shittykawa." Iwaizumi storms over and grabs his collar, damp from exhaustion. "We're leaving."

Oikawa resists, digging his heels in and pouting like a 3-year-old, like he thinks it will work on Iwaizumi, not when they both know it won't.

"Aww, Iwa-chan, you didn't have to come all the way out here just to get me! I can walk home by myself just fine!" Oikawa leans in until their noses are inches apart, and Iwaizumi can feel his breath ghosting across his lips. His hand is still wrapped around Oikawa's shirt, around his neck, and he dimly realizes how easy it would be to pull him down and close the distance between them. "Or are you worried that someone might try to kidnap me, because I'm just so beautiful and charming and irresistible?"

The familiar rhythm of their banter snaps Iwaizumi out of… whatever-it-is, and he is appalled at himself. What the hell just happened? What was he thinking? He's pretty sure his whole face is red right now, heating up like a toaster as he inwardly panics. Hopefully Oikawa will just think he's flushing from anger, not embarrassment.

"Shittykawa! Trashykawa! Like anyone would want to kidnap you!" Iwaizumi flings Oikawa away, watches as he stumbles back laughing, cooling sweat falling from his temples and glittering like diamonds on the floor. Even disheveled and overworked, Oikawa's hair is perfect as usual, wavy and styled and sleek. Iwaizumi growls. Some people get all the luck.

"Come on, let's go." Iwaizumi walks off, switching the lights off behind him, knowing Oikawa will follow. Sure enough, he skips ahead, like he hasn't been grinding on the court for more than five hours, like Iwaizumi doesn't have to drag his ass out every night.

He watches Oikawa out of the corner of his eye, the way his eyes shine in the streetlight, lighting up when he talks about volleyball and aliens, because Oikawa talks all the time, about everything and anything, and-

"Iwa-chan! Are you even listening to me?"

Iwaizumi blinks, trying to recall what Oikawa has been saying and fails terribly.

"I wasn't – "

And then Iwaizumi's reflexes kick in and he grabs Oikawa's arm, hauling him back up to his feet, preventing Oikawa from falling as his knees buckle, unable to hold up his weight.

"Idiot! You know your knee is injured already, overworking yourself is only going to make it worse!" Iwaizumi barks, acute fear spiking through him and making his voice sharp. He shakes Oikawa's arm maybe a little too roughly, worry bleeding into his voice as he says, softer, "No more staying back late."

Oikawa's eyes are wide with shock and pain and some other emotion Iwaizumi can't quite identify, but he grimaces and looks away.

"I mean it." Iwaizumi grinds out.

"Iwa-chan! I always knew you cared about me!" Oikawa's false smile is plastered to his face, voice ringing with a hollow cheerfulness that neither feels, echoing loudly in the dark silence. "After all, you love me the best!"

"I'm serious, Oikawa." Frustration bubbles to the surface and his fist clenches involuntarily around Oikawa's arm. "This is serious. You could end up really hurting yourself."

Oikawa avoids his eyes and tries to shrug it off with a forced nonchalance. He doesn't want to admit defeat, Iwaizumi thinks, because he blames it on himself, every time, for every loss. And this match against Karasuno was especially bad, because Kageyama was there to rub it in his face.

"You worry too much. I'll be fine." And there's a coldness there that wasn't quite there before, a stiff finality fenced around his words that Iwaizumi doesn't like.

And once again Iwaizumi is overwhelmed by helplessness and frustration, because he just wants to make this idiot see, and while he doesn't know how to deal with helplessness, he knows how to deal with rage. Rage is good. Anger is good. He knows how to handle that.

"You're being an idiot!" Iwaizumi smacks him on the head, ruffling his perfect brown curls. He pulls on Oikawa's arm, this time being the one who brings their faces close together, watches his brown eyes widen in surprise and a guarded anger. "You are hurting yourself. Overworking yourself isn't going to help the team any. We lost. Deal with it."

Years of practically living with Oikawa has seasoned him in the nuances of his facial features, his quirks, and now he can tell that Oikawa is hurting, both emotionally and physically, faced with a truth he doesn't want to admit. And when that happens, he lashes out. Oikawa likes to find the little chinks in people's proverbial armor and use words to attack them ruthlessly. Oikawa likes watching people break, likes breaking them. That's just the way he is, and Iwaizumi knows it.

So when his lips twist into an expression of carefully constructed scorn and disgust, when his eyes narrow into slits and his chin lifts up high, using his height as an advantage to stare down at Iwaizumi, he tries not to let it get to him. He tries not to let it hurt when Oikawa spits out, "At least some of us try, Iwa-chan. Some of us care about volleyball and winning and losing and try to get better through practice. Not that you would know."

He tries to tell himself that Oikawa doesn't mean it and he's just exhausted and overworked and probably not thinking straight, would never say such things otherwise. He tries, and tries and tries, but it feels like his vision is tunneling and all he can see is Oikawa's scorn and loathing. Pent up frustration and exhaustion from staring too long at too many textbooks are making his vision blurry and there's a strange feeling in his gut, wrenching and painful and hard.

"And here I thought best friends are supposed to help each other, to support each other, but you've done nothing but get in my way!" Oikawa is almost shouting now, and Iwaizumi lets go of his arm and steps back. "What kind of friend are you? I wish you would just stop."

It feels like something snaps, then. Something is irrevocably and irreparably broken. Maybe it's Iwaizumi's self-control. Or maybe it's their trust. Whatever it is, his default emotion – anger – comes rising up like a great tide of unspoken words, fueled by hurt and frustration and worry. There is a tightness in his throat, and when he speaks, it comes out all raspy and clipped, tension strung taut between each word.

"Fine. You know what? Fine. Have it your way. Go back to the gym and practice or whatever. I'm not gonna stop you, so go ahead and you work yourself to death. Because I don't care anymore."

And then there's simply no good way to end this, so Iwaizumi turns and walks away, but not fast enough to miss the look on Oikawa's face. Before his face twisted into a blank mask of aloofness, for just a moment, Oikawa looked absolutely gutted.


	2. Chapter 2

It isn't that they never fought before. Of course they do, but it's usually insignificant fights about unimportant things that really don't matter much, easily brushed off and then everything would be normal again. Their friendship and volleyball were the two things they mostly never touched upon, each recognizing the lines not to be crossed. Until today.

Iwaizumi can still remember that one time when they were 8 years old and in a fit of rage, he threw Oikawa's favorite alien snow globe at the wall, whereupon it exploded into a million jagged fragments of glass and glitter, the alien bobble head lying limp and bent in a pool of liquid and shattered trust.

Iwaizumi can still remember how awful he felt, staring dumbly at the broken snow globe, even as Oikawa started to scream.

 _That wasn't me,_ he wanted to say. _I wouldn't do something like that._

But he did, and he was confused and guilty and ashamed. Oikawa shunned him for a whole week before Iwaizumi plucked up the courage to go next door armed with an apology, and vast amounts of milk bread. Oikawa is the one who holds grudges, and stew over them for long periods of time, plotting revenge and the best ways to gouge out someone's eyes.

But this, this is different. This time, they had both meant it, and it hurt. Being Oikawa's best friend meant willingly resigning himself to spend the rest of his life with the single most annoying person in the whole universe, who also has the absolute worst personality. Oikawa's the type of person who fries ants with a magnifying glass and puts salt on snails to watch them shrivel up and die, laughing all the while.

Iwaizumi sometimes feels like The Sidekick, especially in volleyball, when he watches Oikawa's pure brilliance and dedication for the sport outshine the rest of the team, when Oikawa tosses to him balls that fits perfectly in the middle of his hands as he sends it whirling down over the net, when Oikawa picks apart all the players on all the teams to exploit their weaknesses and tear them apart from the inside, while Iwaizumi watches on the sidelines, occasionally dragging his bloodthirsty ass away.

Iwaizumi groans out loud and runs his hand through his tangled hair, staring moodily at the pavement. He slept too late the night before and overslept, hardly having any time to throw on a change of clothes before rushing to school.

"Don't look over at Oikawa's house, Hajime," he mutters, averting his eyes, not wishing to see Oikawa standing outside his house waiting, the way they always wait for each other. More likely though, Oikawa has already left. He didn't know which would be worse if he looked.

It's the first time in… he can't even remember the last time he _didn't_ walk to school with Oikawa. The silence is… weird. Iwaizumi hurries to school and misses morning volleyball practice as the bell rings, signaling first period.

Class is boring, as usual, but Iwaizumi tries extremely hard to focus. He knows that he's not a genius like Oikawa and probably has around average intelligence, meaning he has to study pretty darn hard if he wants to make it to a good university. Oikawa doesn't have a problem, though. Oikawa has already received so many sports scholarships to so many different universities, Iwaizumi can't quite catch up at this rate. He needs to score better, or else Oikawa will leave him behind.

He's not even sure if that's a legit concern at this point, because what if they never resolve this fight? He's probably overthinking it and worrying too much, but… Iwaizumi feels guilty, for saying that he didn't care, when it's so obvious that he does, and the baka really should know that too. Besides, Oikawa is the one who started it all, it isn't _his_ fault…

Iwaizumi wants to thank all his lucky stars that he hasn't once seen Oikawa yet, since they're in different classes, a fact that he's never been truly thankful for until now. Eating lunch on the rooftop alone is, again, a novelty, without anyone trying to steal his beloved agedashi tofu or chattering inanely about the new alien movie that just premiered. The sky is a deep sapphire, and Iwaizumi leans his head back against the railing and closes his eyes.

"Oikawa-senpai! Would you like to try my homemade bento?"

"Oikawa-sama!"

"S-Senpai!"

"AAAA!"

There's a sudden disturbance in the school courtyard below, and Iwaizumi doesn't have to open his eyes to know what's happening. Annoyance causes his eyebrow to twitch violently, imagining Oikawa basking in the attention of underclassman and smirking flirtatiously, and Iwaizumi will march up and sink his fist into Oikawa's perfectly chiseled abs before grabbing his collar and slamming his lips against Oikawa's soft …

"GAH!"

Iwaizumi scrambles to his feet, shaking his head wildly and shuddering. Goddamnit, what is wrong with him? It must be the lack of sleep that's messing with his brain. He'll probably have more time on his hands since Oikawa isn't monopolizing all his time with his whims anymore. Iwaizumi sighs, hand in his hands. The silence is unfamiliar, and cold.

For the first time in his life, Iwaizumi is reluctant to go volleyball practice. He'll have to meet Oikawa, and he's not sure how to react. Iwaizumi hops to hell that there exists somewhere some manual on "How to behave around your best friend who after a fight may not be your best friend anymore" and it would magically appear in Iwaizumi's hands so he wouldn't say or do something stupid later on.

Of course, nothing happens. Iwaizumi is changing into his uniform when Oikawa bursts into the locker room, all bright smiles and cheerful greetings, looking right past Iwaizumi, face carefully neutral. Iwaizumi goes along tentatively, but decides to confront him about it after practice has ended. He's not going to spend a week worrying about this.

They don't talk the whole of practice. Oikawa still tosses to him, and Iwaizumi still spikes the ball, but there's no spoken communication, the closest being a moment when they accidently meet each other's eyes across the court. Iwaizumi is hyper aware of Oikawa, especially now that he's actively keeping himself from looking, but his presence is a physical being, impossible to ignore and terrifyingly large.

It's almost scary how in tandem they are even when they're not talking. On court, their squabbles fade into the background and the rhythmic squeak of sports shoes fill the air. It's relaxing, and yet with each passing moment Iwaizumi tenses a little more, acutely aware of Oikawa as he shouts "nice play!" or as he runs, and Iwaizumi's eyes will catch upon the sliver of exposed skin as Oikawa's shirt slides up with the force of his momentum. Iwaizumi hates himself a little more and can't decide whether or not he wants practice to end soon.

And then they're changing in the locker room, and Iwaizumi takes a deep breath, turning around and saying "Oikawa-" And Oikawa comes barreling past him, calling out "bye-bye~" over his shoulder, cutting him off abruptly. The familiar rage rises up in Iwaizumi, and he snags Oikawa's arm.

"Wait, Oikawa – "

"Aa~ sorry Iwa-chan, but I have this super important meeting right now! I've got to run!" Oikawa looks him dead in the eye, and his eyes are flinty and hard, smile so fake that Iwaizumi can practically taste the bitterness on his tongue. His grip involuntarily loosens, and Oikawa takes off before Iwaizumi can get a word in edgewise.

He stands there for a moment, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed, fists clenching and unclenching by his side.

"Trouble in paradise?" Hanamaki swaggers over, shit-eating smirk plastered across his stupid face.

"Ah, young love." Matsukawa shakes his head and sighs dramatically.

"It's okay to have relationship problems, bro. We've all been there." Hanamaki places a hand on Iwaizumi's shoulder. Iwaizumi really cannot deal with this right now. He counts to ten, then counts to ten again. Then he wonders why anybody ever said counting to ten worked, because it very clearly did not work. At all.

"Seriously, though, what happened?" Matsukawa asked.

"Nothing." Iwaizumi returned to his locker, getting ready to leave.

"Dude, I could feel all your… sexual tension all the way across the court. It's obviously not just "nothing"." Hanamaki says, rolling his eyes. Matsukawa nods, arms folded. God, Iwaizumi just wants to go home and study. He really doesn't have the time to deal with them right now. Plus the situation seemed even worse than he thought, because if Oikawa was avoiding him, he must be seriously affected. Or he was just being a brat. The latter seemed like a far likelier option.

"I just – ugh, I'll just… see you next week." Iwaizumi grunts, pushing past the two of them and heading out into the cool cold night. The road is empty and dark, intermittently lit by flickering streetlamps. Iwaizumi stretches, feeling his sore joints ache with fatigue. It's silent. The silence is strange. The silence is… lonely.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day is a Saturday, so Iwaizumi sleeps in, relishing being able to rise after the sun. There's a surreal moment as Iwaizumi opens his eyes and stretches, remembering his promise to Oikawa that they'll watch Alien Attack! at the cinema today at 8 o'clock, so he'd better do his work fast…

And then reality kicks in as his groggy brain catches up to his inner train of thought and completely derails it as he swears blearily. He grabs a pillow and presses it into his face, trying to breathe past the cotton and half-hoping he'd smother.

Iwaizumi wonders if Oikawa is already awake, bouncing around with his usual infinite amounts of energy, or sleeping in too, eyelashes fluttering as he dreams.

Sometimes, Iwaizumi watches Oikawa sleep. Which really, shouldn't be as pevertic or creepy as it probably sounds, because Iwaizumi isn't a voyeur, goddamnit.

But with his eyes closed and mouth soft, Oikawa looks peaceful, almost angelic. Almost. The thought is marred only by the knowledge of what an absolute _demon_ he turns into when awake.

Iwaizumi sighs, wishing he was in bed next door with Oikawa, so he could feel the press of Oikawa's bony hip against his thigh, warmth bleeding into his side as they breathed in each other and _existed_ , _being next_ to each other and _being together_ , not separated by this – this impenetrable wall of suffocating awkwardness and guilt and anger.

Iwaizumi scowls and throws the pillow across the room in disappointment. So much for smothering. He grabs his phone and punches in a text, testing the waters, but already knowing the result.

 _To: Trashykawa_

 _movie tonite?_

By the time he's done brushing his teeth, there's a text waiting for him. Typical Oikawa, on his phone 24/7.

 _From: Trashykawa_

 _sorry iwa-chan! i can't make it tonight_

 _No weird emoji,_ Iwaizumi notes, mentally picturing the ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ s and (~˘▾˘)~s that would usually litter his messages. He shudders, a mix of relief and disappointment curdling in his gut.

Anyway, Iwaizumi is 100% sure Oikawa is free tonight, because Oikawa is always free to watch alien movies, and they've been watching trash ("it's not trash, Iwa-chan! It's high quality snapshots of extraterrestrial life!") together for the past decade or so.

Oikawa isn't exactly subtle about his motives, and Iwaizumi _knows_ that Oikawa knows that Iwaizumi knows.

 _He's still avoiding me,_ Iwaizumi thinks, irritation crumpling his features and worry crushing his mouth. _I need to force this, because he's going to keep running away._

 _To: Trashykawa_

 _u home?_

Iwaizumi's window faces Oikawa's, as they both insisted to have rooms facing each other when they were younger, so when Iwaizumi pulls his curtains open, he's met with a view directly into Oikawa's room, where said inhabitant is currently dressing.

Iwaizumi feels kind of like a pervert crouching in the rosebushes spying on his best friend half-naked, but his eyes are drawn to Oikawa's lithe shape, lean and taut with muscles, watches Oikawa's firm thighs tense and flex, supple arms straightening and curving delicately. Then Oikawa's dashing out of the room, emerging from the front door a few moments later.

Iwaizumi doesn't realize how hard he's gripping the windowsill until he releases it, fingers twinging in pain, the sharp edges leaving deep indents on his palm.

He breathes out slowly, trying and failing to understand _why_ his chest feels tight and his throat is constricted, like someone had socked him hard in the stomach and he's struggling to breathe past the pain.

Because that's what it feels like. Pain.

Iwaizumi thinks it's mental, knows its all in the mind (or heart, but he ignores that), but that doesn't explain why it feels so _real_ , present and piercing.

He swallows thickly, turning away and jerking his curtains shut roughly. His phone buzzes on the table, text notification glowing bright.

 _From: Trashykawa_

 _nope i'm out_

Was it really so bad that Oikawa felt the need to run from his house just to avoid Iwaizumi?

And yet again, frustration is an all-consuming feeling, so Iwaizumi grinds his teeth together and flops down behind his study desk, not even bothering to open Oikawa's message.

His phone pings again.

 _Hanamaki creates Kiss and Make Up_

 _Hanamaki: dude bro Iwaizumi i luv u and all_

 _Hanamaki: but damn you gotta make up with Oikawa_

 _Matsukawa: serious bruh_

 _Matsukawa: how big was your fight this time?_

Iwaizumi can't believe they're taking Oikawa's side without even knowing the full story. Unless Oikawa told them. Which has a 0.000000000001% chance of happening, so Iwaizumi decides to assume that they don't know.

 _Iwaizumi: You don't even know what happened._

 _Hanamaki: aw, dude, we don't even need to know_

 _Matsukawa: we know that this is your fault_

 _Matskawa: so go make up with Oikawa_

 _Iwaizumi: what?_

 _Iwaizumi: no, it's not._

 _Iwaizumi: it's his fault_

 _Matsukawa: he literally ran away at practice_

 _Matsukawa: from u._

 _Matsukawa: not subtle at all buddy_

 _Iwaizumi: he just doesn't want to admit it_

 _Hanamaki: it's wayyyyyy worse than that_

 _Hanamaki: your right, we don't even know what happened, but it sure shook him up bad_

 _Matsukawa: ur still stuck in denial_

 _Matsukawa: but_

 _Matsukawa: u shld b there for him._

 _Iwaizumi: i'm not his mom_

 _Iwaizumi: i don't have to hold his hand_

 _Hanamaki: his gf broke up wif him day b4 yest_

Iwaizumi freezes.

The latest one – Kaede? – has also been the longest one so far. If Iwaizumi remembered correctly, she started dating Oikawa last last Monday, so that made it… a whole 17 days?

Oikawa doesn't tend to keep girlfriends, no matter how pretty or charming or smitten they are. And girls don't usually break up with Oikawa. Ever. There is only one other incident, quite a few years back, when the girl had absolutely hated aliens and immediately broke up with him the moment Oikawa had suggested watching some alien movie.

Oikawa had been confused and not quite heartbroken, but hurt and probably nursing an injured pride. Iwaizumi had thought it was hilarious, but still stayed up until 3am playing Mario Kart with Oikawa while he sniffled and complained and sulked.

Even the ones he does break up with, leaves him feeling moody and irritable afterwards.

Iwaizumi is shocked at how extensive his knowledge of Oikawa's dating habits are. He mentally trashes his bloody Oikawa Tooru Wikipedia page and tries to focus on the matter at hand.

No wonder Oikawa had bitten his head off. He was probably working off his disappointment at yet another failed love in the court before Iwaizumi had burst in and dragged him out.

Iwaizumi groaned and slammed his head on his desk. So it really was his fault.

 _Iwaizumi: fuck._


	4. Chapter 4

_To: Trashykawa_

 _i'm sorry._

 _To: Trashykawa_

 _can we talk?_

Iwaizumi pauses from his studying and flexes his fingers, stiff from hours of hunching over a desk. Oikawa has been ignoring his messages, and he's pretty sure he's being ignored because Oikawa is never _not_ online.

 _To: Trashykawa_

 _i know ur ignoring me_

Iwaizumi decides he doesn't care if he sounds desperate because to hell with it, he _is_ pretty desperate. His previous feelings of justified anger and hurt had all but dissolved into guilt and worry for Oikawa, although he's quite sure that Oikawa's scheming some fancy revenge to make him regret it.

Because that's who Oikawa is, and that's what Oikawa does. He schemes and plots and he is _dangerous_ , because his schemes will most likely succeed and break his victim into tiny little pieces.

Iwaizumi isn't too worried about being torn apart, because he's known that baka too long for that, and he's knows that while Oikawa seems pretty goddamn confident and self-assured and probably arrogant, underneath all that bluster and killing intent, Oikawa is actually quite insecure.

Iwaizumi thinks having a big ego but low self-esteem is probably one of the worst combinations which is exactly why it's manifested in Oikawa, because Oikawa _is_ good, and he knows it, but that doesn't stop him from blaming himself excessively.

Maybe it's because he's captain, and Iwaizumi will sucker punch anyone who says Oikawa isn't a good captain, because he is.

Oikawa's just too focused on his faults to see all the other million good things.

 _To Trashykawa:_

 _shittykawa dont do this_

Iwaizumi doesn't know what he's expecting, but when he rings the doorbell of the house next door, he half-hopes Oikawa will answer, even though he knows Oikawa left in a great hurry more than 12 hours ago.

The door opens, and he's met with the smiling face of Oikawa's mother, Mayumi.

"Ah, sorry to disturb you, Mayumi-san, but do you know where Oikawa is?"

"Hajime-kun! I haven't seen you in a while! Come in, come in!"

Mayumi ushers him in and Iwaizumi enters the familiar living room where he spent almost half of his childhood, playing with Oikawa and occasionally breaking expensive pottery or delicate glassware.

When they're seated and Iwaizumi has been offered tea and cookies, Oikawa's mother smiles at him, eyes soft and sure, full of some secret knowledge that Iwaizumi can't begin to comprehend.

"Did you boys fight again?"

Her smile is knowing and her tone teasing, so Iwaizumi decides that she isn't mad.

"Ha… how did Oikawa-san know?"

A sigh.

"Tooru came home all grumpy and moody the day before yesterday and he skipped the alien movie with you today."

She pauses.

"Tooru _never_ skips his alien movies."

Iwaizumi thinks she has a point.

"Yeah, um, well, we did have a fight, and I want to make it up to him, but he keeps avoiding me. Do you know where he went?"

It's late. It's late and Oikawa still isn't back yet, so he's either in the bar getting wasted or he's deflating volleyballs in school.

"Well, I don't know, Hajime-kun, but he brought his volleyball shoes with him when he left."

And that's all the answer Iwaizumi needs, so he nods and fidgets on the couch, impatient to leave and draining his tea.

"Don't worry, Hajime-kun, I'm sure Tooru will understand. Although when you become my son-in-law, I'll expect you to be more considerate of his feelings."

Iwaizumi chokes on his tea and coughs, trying not to spit tea in her face.

What the hell?!

"I'm not- we're not- he didn't even tell me – what?" Iwaizumi sputters amidst sprays of green tea and stares incredulously at the laughing woman in front of him.

Oh, great.

He buries his flaming face in his hands and tries to ignore that there's tea smeared all over his chin.

"Ah, young love." Oikawa's mother stands, and Iwaizumi gets to his feet, ready to run from this place of demons.

Iwaizumi is halfway to school before he recalls her last words, and "young love" echoes in his head for a full five seconds before its meaning kicks in and Iwaizumi yelps.

Oikawa's mother thinks they're dating.

Iwaizumi wants to crawl into a hole and die.

He doesn't notice the cold, so intent on his destination that the freezing temperatures don't bother him.

Sure enough, the gym lights are on and there's the telltale sound of volleyballs being smacked around by the Demon from Hell, and Iwaizumi pauses outside, doubt and uncertainty diffusing like toxic fumes in his gut.

He walks in, unnoticed by the panting setter as Oikawa lobs yet another volleyball, sweat streaming down the fine lines of his body.

Oikawa's overworking himself again, and Iwaizumi's scared Oikawa's knees can't take it.

The shaking is more visible, and Oikawa leans his weight on his other foot, head bowed and shoulders hunched into something small and pathetic, fists clenched by his sides.

"Oi, Oikawa, it's 1am in the morning."

Oikawa startles, but doesn't turn around. Iwaizumi can tell from the contours of his body that Oikawa's clenching his teeth shut, jaw line strong and tight. Iwaizumi wants to map Oikawa's body line by line, curve by curve, until he can memorize all the ridges and hollows Oikawa has to offer.

"I am aware of that."

There's a tension uncoiling in the air between them, tight and brittle, like a sudden movement is all it would take to shatter it completely and release an avalanche of emotion neither of them are prepared for.

Iwaizumi opens his mouth, and closes it.

He isn't a talker, never has been one, and probably never will be one. He tries to find other ways to express himself, and his true feelings show themselves in every one of his actions, but he _knows_ that _it's not enough,_ and there will always come a time when he will have to put it in words, lay himself out for them all to see, to communicate and be understood.

Now is that time, and Iwaizumi is full of emotions and thoughts he doesn't have to words to express.

Now is the time, and Iwaizumi is faced with an unyielding back taut with anger and betrayal, and he can't do anything about it.

Frustration is all encompassing, and he wants to scream, and he _tries._

"Oikawa… Can we talk?"

Oikawa turns around then, face blank and as cold as a stone mask, eyes distant and hard.

"We _are_ talking."

Anger comes through then, familiar Oikawa-induced rage.

"Asshole, you know what I mean! I know you're still angry with me, so goddamnit, stop pretending you aren't!"

There's a beat of silence, when Iwaizumi stares straight into Oikawa's eyes, and for a moment he thinks Oikawa will give in and they can resolve this, but the moment passes too quick, too soon, and Oikawa turns away.

"Go away, Iwaizumi"

Iwaizumi freezes, acute coldness spreading wintery death in his gut, heat prickling sharp in his eyes.

"I don't want to have anything to do with you anymore."


	5. Chapter 5

There's a beat of silence, a moment frozen in time as Iwaizumi stands there shocked, the clock hands grinding to a halt.

And then Iwaizumi is there, right in front of Oikawa as he grabs his shoulders roughly and _shakes._

"You trashy, idiotkawa! Don't say shit like this when you don't mean it!"

Oikawa's head flops back and forth like a ragdoll, volleyball dropping from his limp fingers to land on the court between them.

"I do mean it. You're just deluded." Oikawa lifts his head up, voice sharp and slicing.

Iwaizumi has memorized all the nuances of the traces which make up Oikawa, knows that Oikawa goes cold and calculating when angry, translates his rage into revenge and seeks to _hurt_ , to damage and injure and _break._

It's a stark contrast to Iwaizumi's rage, frequent and hot and burning with passion, quick to light yet quick to extinguish, flaring bright like the flame of a fire. It's all consuming, and blinding.

He needs to get past the wall that Oikawa has constructed around himself, one of hurt and guilt and anger. Oikawa doesn't want to – as Hanamaki put it – "kiss and make up", because he's too busy wallowing in his own misplaced feelings of justified anger and disappointment.

They've fought before, but it's harder, so much harder now that Oikawa isn't even trying. And that's what cuts Iwaizumi to the core.

"I'm sorry your girlfriend broke up with you, but you should've told me, idiot! I wouldn't have fought with you if I knew!"

What he means is "Sorry, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said those things I didn't mean."

And Oikawa chooses to ignore the real message in his words, focusing instead on the superficial outer shells his true meaning comes wrapped up in, brittle and solid and hard.

"And you _care?_ I distinctly remember you saying you don't give a flying fuck anymore. Even if you knew, my girlfriend breaking up with me wouldn't have changed anything. Stop lying to yourself." Oikawa is staring down at him, and there's the oh so familiar glint in his eyes, the one that tells Iwaizumi he's out for blood.

Iwaizumi ignores that, and hears Oikawa instead. Oikawa at his lowest, yet not wanting to show the slightest sign of weakness, rejecting the simplest shred of pity. Oikawa holding on to the harsh words that hurt him and repeating it to himself, burning it in his mind.

"Just go away." Oikawa tries to pull away from Iwaizumi, but he holds on resolutely. Oikawa's words ring in the empty hollowness of the gym, a challenge fissured with uncertainty, testing to see if Iwaizumi really will abandon him. Like hell.

"You can't just tell me to walk away like that, like I don't mean anything to you or you don't mean anything to me." Iwaizumi's voice is a harsh whisper, shaking fingers curled around Oikawa's shoulders.

"After so many years of being best friends, and now you want to throw it all away over some stupid fight we had?!"

He's shouting now, voice curling around his words and setting them aflame to burn in the air between them

"You can fucking dream on, because you and I – " Iwaizumi brings his face in close to Oikawa's, so that angry, green eyes lock with shocked brown ones, shining with confusion and anger.

"- will never be over."

Oikawa's eyes widen, staring at Iwaizumi wordlessly.

" _Never."_

The last word is a whisper, a breath of air carrying the brunt of his overflowing emotion and the weight of a promise.

Iwaizumi lets go then, and steps back. The ball is no longer in his court, and the choice is up to Oikawa.

Oikawa opens his mouth and closes it, trembling legs taking a step forward –

\- and falls.

Iwaizumi watches in horror as Oikawa crumples into himself, wrapped around his knee and curls into a ball on the floor.

Iwaizumi thinks he screams, but maybe it's Oikawa, and maybe it's neither.

"Iwa-chan, Iwa-chan, Iwa-chan – " Oikawa gasps, one hand wrapped around his knee and the other reaching, reaching out towards Iwaizumi and groping blindly, _needing_ him in this instant of pure horror and pain.

And then Iwaizumi is there (how could he not be?), wrapping his hand around Oikawa's back and the other fumbling in his pocket for his phone.

Oikawa is a shuddering mess in his arms, face buried in Iwaizumi's shoulder and eyes squeezed shut, cheeks wet with tears and sweat.

Iwaizumi's hands are shaking so bad he almost drops the phone twice, the sheer urgency and reality of the situation sending electric tingles down his spine.

"H-Hello? I need an ambulance. My friend, he- he fell, and his knee, oh god, oh my god – Aoba Johsai High School…" Iwaizumi's voice is shaking, his throat feeling impossibly tight and mouth gone dry with fear.

He ends the call and curls up around Oikawa, shifting to fit against his best friend, making sure he stays as still as possible.

He thinks, then, that it's possibly the worst time in his life, the endless minutes stretching out into eternity, waiting for help that might never come.

"Iwa-chan –"

"Oikawa – "

Oikawa is struggling not to sob, taking in great gulping breaths of air. They're both trying not to think about what this means for Oikawa's volleyball career.

"Oikawa… Don't worry, you shittykawa, it'll be okay, the doctors will be able to fix you up good as new again…"

Iwaizumi huffs out something that might have been a sob or a sigh, and twice as pathetic as either.

"You _idiot_..." He mumbles, holding tight to his best friend in the world, even as Oikawa cries into his shoulder.


	6. Chapter 6

They stay like that, sitting together on the cold gym floor until Iwaizumi's legs are starting to cramp up, for what seems like the longest period of time.

The rest is a blur of colour and noise, the wailing of the siren, blue and red lights flashing piercingly bright, white clothed paramedics whisking Oikawa onto a stretcher.

Iwaizumi doesn't want them to take Oikawa away from him, not so soon, not when Oikawa still needs him. Oikawa hangs onto his hand desperately from the stretcher, and Iwaizumi can read Oikawa's fear in the lines of his mouth, crumpled at the edges. He squeezes Oikawa's hand, and doesn't let go.

He's allowed onto the ambulance and answers questions on auto-pilot mode, focused only on Oikawa.

"Don't you boys worry, you'll be just fine!" One of them says, ruffling Oikawa's hair.

Oikawa is too shaken up to do anything more than nod and smile, and Iwaizumi threads their fingers together, presses their hands palm to palm.

Oikawa's face is sickly pale in the harsh lighting, brown hair plastered limply to his face, and Iwaizumi has to resist the urge to reach out and smooth his hair back, reassure him for the thousandth time that everything will be all right.

"Hey dumbass, I can hear you overthinking it." Iwaizumi says, searching his face for signs of pain, stroking his thumb in slow steady circles on the back of Oikawa's hand.

"Iwa-chan, I have no idea what you're talking about." Oikawa's voice is strained and tense, but still maintaining a semblance of levity. He leans in conspiratorially, or as much as the limited space will allow. "Remember what I said? People are always trying to kidnap me and whisk me off to some grand place because they just can't help being entranced."

Iwaizumi is relieved that Oikawa still has it in him to crack dumb jokes. He feels himself relax slightly as a smile tugs on the corners of his mouth, and he catches sight of what might have been triumph in Oikawa's eyes. Weird.

"Grand place of death and despair, you mean." Iwaizumi notes, then regrets it an instant later when a shadow flickers across Oikawa's face.

"Hey." Iwaizumi says, softly, surely, reaching out with his other hand to cup his face. "Hey. I'm serious. You're gonna be okay."

Iwaizumi stares deep into Oikawa's warm brown eyes, and it seems like everything else disappears - the horrible monitors beeping out their dire rhythms, the whirr of the car engine, the smell of antiseptic…

Oikawa's lip trembles and for a moment his eyes screw up, the gravity and reality of his horrible situation crashing down around him. Injuries in sports aren't lightly overlooked. It could mean the end of volleyball. Iwaizumi doesn't know if Oikawa will be able to handle that, doesn't know how he himself will take it.

"It must be really bad, then, since Iwa-chan is being so nice." Oikawa says, attempting a smile and half-succeeding.

"Shut up, I'm always nice." Iwaizumi thinks back on the last few days and amends, "Only to those who deserve it, though. Who usually aren't workaholic brats who get themselves sent to the hospital.

"Aww, Iwa-chan, are you saying I'm special?" Oikawa coos, smug smile now slipping in place on his face, and it looks right, somehow, in a way that Iwaizumi didn't know he was missing. "I know you love me best."

There's a beat of silence, then Iwaizumi gives a helpless half-laugh, caught off guard and suddenly, with a bland sort of epiphany, he realizes that Oikawa is more right than he knows.

He leans his head against Oikawa's shoulder, trying not to overthink about what it means about his sexuality and how the actual hell and when the fuuuu-

Iwaizumi doesn't know if he's laughing or crying, but he mumbles, softly, probably too softly for Oikawa to catch, resigned and amazed and incredulous, "Yeah, I sure do, don't I?"

The moment is broken as they reach the hospital, and Iwaizumi reluctantly lets the paramedics wheel Oikawa away, watches as Oikawa twists in his stretcher to stare back at him, then gives him a watery smile and a thumbs up, like Oikawa's the one comforting Iwaizumi, and not the other way around.

Iwaizumi's heart clenches, rather painfully.

A couple of hours pass before Iwaizumi sees Oikawa again, though not for lack of trying. Iwaizumi dozes off and is startled into hissing wakefulness every time he dreams, because Oikawa features in the starring role, and Iwaizumi can only watch him fall….. fall… fall…

The bed Oikawa occupies is clean and white, pristine linen sheets folded around his slim body. Iwaizumi rushes to the bedside and takes in Oikawa's sleeping face, dimly registering that Oikawa's parents entering as well.

He takes a deep breath and turns around, bowing sharply.

"Oikawa-san, I want to apologize. I was with Oikawa when he… fell, and I should have been able to stop him before he injured himself so bad, and I might have if we hadn't had that stupid fight…" Iwaizumi gasps, vision blurring and tears burning sharp in his eyes. His fists are clenched tightly by his side, and he remains with his head bowed, willing himself not to cry, awaiting judgement.

And then he's enfolded in a warm embrace and Oikawa's mother murmurs in his ear, "Oh, Hajime, you know we'd never blame you. This isn't your fault at all, so don't blame yourself for it."

Iwaizumi loses the battle and hot tears leak from the corners of his eyes as he tentatively hugs her back, feeling immensely relieved yet immensely guilty.

Iwaizumi feels so, so lucky that Oikawa's parents are so understanding, and desperately hopes that Oikawa will be as well.

He lets Oikawa's parents sit down, and Oikawa's mother scoots the chair closer to the bed to smooth back her son's hair. Iwaizumi tries not to stare and wonders why there's a weird feeling in his chest, right above his lungs.

Iwaizumi stands when Oikawa's parents leave, with reminders of "Hajime, you really don't have to watch him the whole night, the doctors said he'll sleep till morning, at least…" and to "Call me when he wakes!", he settles in the chair previously occupied by Oikawa's mother.

He debates for a split seconding before gently grasping Oikawa's hand and entwines their fingers together, just like on the ambulance. This time, though, he lets himself card his hand through Oikawa's hair, marveling at the silky strands and sighing, feeling drained and empty and echoing.

There's silence again, broken only by the regular beeps of the monitor charting out Oikawa's steady heartbeat. Iwaizumi takes comfort in being able to hear Oikawa's continued existence, feels his heart swell with all the unspoken words he never got to say aloud.

"Oikawa…"

Iwaizumi feels like an idiot, talking to Oikawa while he's not even awake yet still not knowing how to say it.

"Wake up soon, idiot. I… "

needyoumissyouIoveyoui'msorry.


	7. Chapter 7

Iwaizumi wakes up to the feeling of fingers in his hair, tugging on his tangled locks.

"Ughhh…" Iwaizumi opens his eyes blearily and the world comes into focus, blurry and white and much too bright.

Where is he – right. Hosptial. He grimaces, lifting his head up and immediately regretting it as pain shoots through his neck as it cramps up.

Note to self, Iwaizumi gripes, don't sleep hunched over a hospital bed.

Iwaizumi notices Oikawa watching him closely, an unreadable emotion in his narrowed eyes, uncharacteristically silent and moody. Iwaizumi straightens fully and cocks his head, trying to work out the kinks in his neck.

"Uwaa, Iwa-chan looks like the alien in Mars Incoming right now! The really angry, ugly one that looks like a squashed bull." Oikawa's default bright voice cuts the air and Iwaizumi is surprised at how relieved he feels as Oikawa seems over his strange moment of contemplation, huffing out a breath of pent up air.

Oikawa's smiling at him, softly, not the way he does with his fans or when he's calculating, but an open, genuine smile. Iwaizumi hasn't seen it in a while, and he takes a moment to fix it in his memory, a sudden warmth blooming in his chest.

Oikawa pulls on Iwaizumi's hair again, so he scowls, saying, "They must have drugged you pretty bad for you to look so happy, especially since there's no one suffering in a ten-mile radius."

"You mean besides you, Iwa-chan?" Oikawa's smile grows wider, and Iwaizumi notices how raspy his voice sounds. He spots a pitcher on the beside table and pours a glass, pressing it into Oikawa's palm wordlessly, fingers brushing together for a moment longer than strictly necessary.

"Yeah, because staying more than a minute in your presence is definitely considered suffering."

"Oh? Iwa-chan's contradicting himself."

"Am not, idiot. And finish your water!"

"Says the person which stayed overnight in the same room as me. Voluntarily." Oikawa says, staring up at him through half lidded eyes over the rim of the glass which Iwaizumi takes from his hand after making sure it's really empty.

Iwaizumi quirks his eyebrows at Oikawa, jerking his head towards the water jug, and Oikawa makes a face and shudders. Iwaizumi scowls harder and places the cup back on the table.

"Well, I wouldn't have to if some stupid idiot didn't go and overwork himself fully aware of what would happen if – " Iwaizumi doesn't even realize he's shouting until Oikawa's heart monitor speeds up, lines on the screen spiked with agitation and the beeping loud and condemning.

The sound snaps Iwaizumi out of his tirade and his rage, and he deflates like a burst balloon, guilt and horror seeping into the empty spaces in his chest where the anger had been.

A nurse bustles in, frowning, saving them from the awkward standstill. "Please refrain from shouting. Ah, Oikawa-san, how are you feeling? Let's see now, the doctor should be coming in quite soon to check on you. I'll go call your parents and inform them that you're awake."

Iwaizumi nods sheepishly and mumbles an embarrassed apology, which she accepts graciously before leaving the room. He turns around to look at Oikawa once again, who stares back at him for a moment before he smiles, bright and fake and says, "Ah, Iwa-chan, please do go on with your fascinating lecture."

Iwaizumi doesn't miss the bitterness which tinge his words or Oikawa's clenched fists, knuckles white with tension.

There's a beat of silence, Oikawa staring defiantly back like a rebellious child on the verge of throwing a tantrum, eyes screwed up and bottom lip pushed out.

Iwaizumi sighs, giving in and reaches over to uncurl Oikawa's fingers from their death grip around the sheets.

"Stop that, you'll crumple the sheets." Iwaizumi gripes, but still folds their hands together, feeling Oikawa's long calloused fingers curl around his own. It's weird, probably, but nice. Extremely nice. The way forbidden fruit shouldn't be, but is.

It's a peace treaty, or at least something along the lines of one.

"The sheets aren't that nice anyway. They're all scratchy and thin and it's cold," Oikawa whines in his signature brat voice, shivering dramatically. Iwaizumi frowns and brings his other hand up to touch Oikawa's cheek, which is, in fact, cold.

He leaves it there, ignoring Oikawa's wide-eyed stare and asks, "You wanna ask the nurse to get another blanket?"

Oikawa gives a muted sound of rejection and leans into Iwaizumi's hand, nuzzling it much like a cat would.

Iwaizumi officially loses the battle on Scold Oikawa For Being A Stupid Jackass, because Oikawa insisted on being An Extremely Cute Idiot.

Usually Iwaizumi would bluster and shout at Oikawa when he got injured, but it was only because he couldn't express the jumbled mess of concern and worry and relief that war in his chest, squeezing his lungs and erupting outwards as a tidal wave of anger.

Iwaizumi doesn't know how to stop it, hates that Oikawa would just sit there mutely and take it in.

Iwaizumi doesn't want to shout at Oikawa, not anymore. He wants Oikawa to understand, to see the depths of his worry. He doesn't want Oikawa to think he's truly angry, not when they're both so worried and tense.

He strokes Oikawa's cheek gently, thinks their friendship is too far gone for this to be anything but natural (practically living with someone for 15 years does that to you), the silence comfortable.

"Your parents should be here soon," Iwaizumi says, breaking the silence.

"You didn't have to stay overnight with me." Oikawa murmurs, soft. Iwaizumi can sense the uncertainty hidden in the words, woven tight between gratitude and warmth.

"Yeah, well, someone has to look out for you. It just happens that the unlucky someone is me." Iwaizumi deadpans, but squeezes his hand comfortingly.

"I bet you were just trying to perve on me while I slept." Oikawa grins, and Iwaizumi growls, moving his hand from Oikawa's cheek to his throat, thinking about how nice it would be to just squeeze, "It's okay, Iwa-chan, I know I'm irresistible~"

Iwaizumi decides, what the heck, and pounces.

"That's right, I can't resist killing you since you're such an ass- !" Iwaizumi breaks off as the door opens abruptly.

Oikawa's parents fill in, exclamations dying in their throats as they take in Iwaizumi on all fours over Oikawa, both hands wrapped around his throat while Oikawa's hands looped over Iwaizumi's neck and pulling him low. Simply put, in a very compromising position.

Oikawa smirks at him, and heat suffuses Iwaizumi's face until he's sure it must have caught fire. He backpedals off hurriedly, ignoring Oikawa's call of "Iwa-chan, don't go, things were just about to get good!", voice shaking with barely suppressed mirth.

He spotted Oikawa's parents giving each other arched looks and trading smirks, before Oikawa's mother turns towards him, with the same fucking expression on her face which usually grace Oikawa's, and Iwaizumi knows he is screwed.

"Ah, Hajime, don't let us interrupt you." She said breezily, though Iwaizumi could tell she was scrutinizing Oikawa and making sure he was really okay. Iwaizumi resisted the urge to roll his eyes. As if he'd actually try to strangle Oikawa just after he woke up from a surgery.

Oikawa was sniggering somewhere behind him, and Iwaizumi really really wanted to slam his fist in his gut to shut him up, surgery or not.

"Also," Oikawa's father says, "Tooru, I didn't know you like it so rough!"

Oiakwa splutters as Oikawa-san saunters over casually, ruffling his hair and stage whispering, "Don't worry, your mom and I are totally not judging your sexual preferences! It's perfectly all right to have weird kinks!

Oikawa wails dramatically, yelling at his father and Iwaizumi relaxes slightly at having the attention taken off him. He rubs the back of his head sheepishly, but freezes as Mayumi-san turns towards him.

"Really, though, Hajime, you should know better than to do it in a hospital bed with security cameras everywhere." She scolds.

And for the second time in twelve hours, Iwaizumi wants to dig a hole and die because of Oikawa's mother.


	8. Chapter 8

"Oikawa-kun, you fractured your knee here and here – see the white lines?" Yamada-sensei motions to the x-ray, and Iwaizumi's fingers dig into Oikawa's shoulder.

Oikawa sits still, silent and expressionless as a statue while his parents exchange glances – resignation and regret etched into the corners of their mouths.

"You play… volleyball, is that correct? Your fracture is caused by over-exertion over a long period of time, and all that jumping around put too much pressure on your knee." Yamada-sensei pauses and looks Oikawa in the eye, thin framed metal glasses glinting in the light, "I'm sorry, but the damage done to your knee is simply too great."

Iwaizumi feels as if all the air has been sucked out of his lungs, leaving a gaping hole where his breath should be. Oh god, please no.

"You will most likely be unable to perform strenuous physical activity for at least a few years, without risking even greater damage to your knee." Yamada-sensei sighs, solemn and stern. "As your doctor, I advice you quit the volleyball club immediately."

"You are not fit to continue."

Iwaizumi bites down hard on his tongue, tasting blood and copper and despair.

They return to Oikawa's ward, Iwaizumi wordlessly pushing Oikawa's wheelchair as they both stare blankly ahead, lost in their own thoughts. Oikawa's parents trail behind, whispering furiously.

He helps Oikawa get into his bed and when he looks up, notices Oikawa staring at him. Oikawa looks blank and dead, and Iwaizumi feels much the same. He squeezes Oikawa's hand once, a reminder, before standing off to the side, making room for Oikawa's parents.

There's a terse, tense silence as his parents give each other looks, and Iwaizumi wishes they would just spit out whatever they're going to say. Every second grates on his frayed nerves, one tug on a loose thread would be all it takes to unravel him completely.

"Tooru."

Oikawa's mother starts, awkward and fumbling. Iwaizumi suppresses a sudden urge of anger towards her, because she's supposed to be the adult and be able to do these things, instead of being so incompetent.

"I'm sure the volleyball club will understand."

No, no, no, no. She's doing it all wrong. Can't she see she's only making it worse?

Iwaizumi can see it in the thin line of Oikawa's mouth. The moisture around his bloodshot eyes, sad and empty. The shaking of his clenched fist as his mother reaches out to clasp his bigger hand.

Oikawa pulls away harshly, eyes on the bedsheets, shoulders hunched and trembling.

Oikawa's parents don't know Oikawa like Iwaizumi does, haven't spent hundreds of hours practicing together in the gym, learning to read each other's actions and words and feelings.

They don't know how Oikawa feels right now, don't have the slightest idea how to comfort him, can't possibly understand him. They're only going to make it worse.

Iwaizumi sees the hurt in Oikawa's mother's stiff shoulders, the anger in the hard set of his father's mouth, and all his instincts are screaming at him and going into overdrive because they don't understand.

"I'll call your volleyball coach to inform him."

The one thing Oikawa hates most is pity. He can't stand being thought as weak, as needing someone's comfort, when someone looks down on him.

Even from his parents. Perhaps especially from his parents, because he's always had some kind of desperate need to prove himself that Iwaizumi always suspected stemmed from his family.

So really, they shouldn't be so surprised. Oikawa's always been touchy at best, and at his worst, the slightest action could be taken to mean the wrong thing.

"You're already in third year so at least you're not missing much of it. You'll even have more time to focus on your studies now - "

"No."

Iwaizumi watches entranced, with something akin to horror and exhilaration unfurling in his chest as Oikawa does what he always does and converts his darker emotions into calculative fury.

The cold, sharp kind of fury which is the exact opposites of Iwaizumi's, not the bright, short burst of scorching flame but the slow burn of frostbite. Iwaizumi burns red like the sun, and Oikawa is blue like the ice.

What do they always say? Iwaizumi thinks, somewhat hysterically, and everything is suddenly comical and hilarious and he's feeling giddy with sudden laughter, has to bring a fist to his mouth to smother it. The brightest flame always burns blue.

Oikawa's rage is tightly controlled and precise, but Iwaizumi can see it burning all the same in his eyes as he raises his head to glare at his mother

Hard and harsh and sharp, Iwaizumi thinks.

His mother is taken aback at his sudden interruption, her surprise slowly morphing into the beginnings of irritation.

"Well, Tooru, you heard what the doctor said. There's no way you can possibly keep playing, so – "

"So what if I can't play?!" Oikawa cuts her off again, voice icy and hard. "I don't have to quit the team."

His father starts forward, mouth opening, but Oikawa beats him to it.

"I spent years to become the captain! I'm not going to throw it away now! I'm not going to quit the club! I can't!" Oikawa says, not quite shouting, but the anger is straining at the limits of his control.

"Tooru, do not speak to your mother this way – " His father steps in, seemingly calm in the face of an absolute meltdown, but Iwaizumi can tell he's torn between trying to be an understanding father and a disciplined one who won't take a yelling child.

Oikawa stares at him, and there's a fire burning in his eyes, his fury so wild and white that Iwaizumi can feel it, the same way Oikawa possesses a radiant sheen when he executes a perfect jump serve, full of power and joy and pure, untainted exhilaration.

His face is twists in rage now, and he tries futilely to move with the impediment of his bandaged knee, frustration throwing fuel on the fire of his fury.

"Fuck you!" Oikawa screams, and to Iwaizumi it's like the thin veneer of ice holding the scraps of Oikawa's self-control together has shattered, his words raining down like icicles plunging downwards, aiming for the kill.

"I don't care what you say, I'm not going to quit the club! Volleyball is a part of me and I'm not letting you take it away from me, so don't even try! I don't care if I break every single bone in my body, I'm still not giving it up, ever!" Oikawa yells, then pauses, lips curling into a something cruel and cold and familiar, and Iwaizumi realizes too late what Oikawa is about to do.

Iwaizumi surges forward, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu as Oikawa has the same look in his eyes before telling Iwaizumi "I don't want to have anything to do with you anymore." Oikawa Tooru's infamous Killing Statements. Iwaizumi knows what it's like first hand.

Oikawa sees him coming and his eyes widens, words momentarily forgotten as Iwaizumi claps his hand over Oikawa's mouth and smacks the back of his head, yelling "Stop it, Shittykawa!"

Iwaizumi hopes for a desperate moment that he's gotten through to Oikawa, but then Oikawa bites his hand and screams, and Iwaizumi thinks, that went well, before Oikawa punches him right in the face.

For someone who broke his knee, undergone surgery and just woke up from anesthesia, Oikawa packs one hell of a mean punch. Pain flares and spikes in his nose and mouth and there is a moment of dull blackness as his vision blurs and his heartbeat throbs deafeningly loud in his ears.

"You fucker!" Iwaizumi chokes out, reaching out to Oikawa, reaching out and not pulling back to punch him, no, because Iwaizumi is always reaching for Oikawa, and grabs Oikawa's face and smashes their foreheads together so that they are staring each other in the eyes.

Dimly, Iwaizumi notes that Oikawa's cheeks are wet and he wipes his tears away with his thumbs, yelling, "Shut up and listen, idiot!" amidst Oikawa's cries of "GET OFF ME" and screams of anger.

Oikawa punches him again, and Iwaizumi doesn't stop him, lets Oikawa slap his shoulders and try with a horrible hurting need to pry Iwaizumi off. But Iwaizumi hangs on tight and breathes through it, saying over and over again "I know, idiot. I know."

There is a point when Oikawa's screams of rage dissolves into sobs and broken words, strung together by choked cries and gasps of pain, but Iwaizumi doesn't know when it is. All he knows is that he's trying too hard himself not to give in to the burning in his eyes and he's seeking comfort from Oikawa just as much as he's giving.

Iwaizumi holds him through it all, noticing with detached amusement as Oikawa's parents leave the room, fending off annoyed nurses who came running at the shouts.

He releases Oikawa's face, blotchy and swollen with crying and wraps his arms around his shoulders, encircling his back and pulling him close. Oikawa buries his head into the side of Iwaizumi's neck, and Iwaizumi can feel the trickle of tears drip steadily from his collar down his chest.

Salty wetness touches his lips and Iwaizumi startles. When did he start crying?

Oikawa lifts his head away and Iwaizumi stares into Oikawa's desperate brown eyes. Oikawa lets out a breathy moan, face screwed up and Iwaizumi thinks he dies a little inside at the sight. He hates it when Oikawa cries, especially when he can't do anything about it.

"Iwa-chan…" Oikawa whispers, and Iwaizumi's mind flashes back to when they were sharing their deepest darkest secret back when they were six, "Iwa-chan, what do I do?!"

The despair in Oikawa's words pricks at Iwaizumi, the broken fragments of a shattered rage. The reality of the situation sinks in, right then, and it whacks Iwaizumi full in the face with its devastating consequences.

Oikawa can't play volleyball anymore. Not for forever, but… He and Oikawa had been playing volleyball for as long as Iwaizumi can remember. It's a part of them.

If Oikawa can't play volleyball, Iwaizumi thinks, horrified all of a sudden. What am I going to do?

Iwaizumi has no idea what the fuck they're going to do, but Oikawa is relying on him so he steels himself and tries so hard to say something reassuring.

"You stop playing volleyball for a while. You don't have to quit the team, just take it easy. Then in a few years when your knee is all healed, we can continue playing volleyball again, in university, like this never ever happened." Iwaizumi cups Oikawa's face, trying to sound strong and sure even when he's drowning in doubts and uncertainty.

"Got it? Don't let this fuck you up, idiot. You're still gonna play again, and be the best damn setter in Japan." Iwaizumi growls, words heavy with conviction. He forgets who's he's trying to convince, but maybe if he says it enough time he'll start to believe it too.

His words hang in the air, weighing on their minds.

Oikawa leans against Iwaizumi's shoulder, fingers clutching at his shirt and Iwaizumi runs his hand through Oikawa's hair.

"This isn't the end of the world. Don't treat it like it is, you shitty bastard." Iwaizumi can taste the familiar fondness of his words on his tongue, and hopes Oikawa hears it too.

"Okay," Oikawa says, quiet, small.

"okay."


	9. Chapter 9

It's Sunday night when Oikawa is finally discharged. He doesn't quite walk out by himself, but leans heavily on the crutches, his movement slow and jerky, impeded by the unfamiliar leg brace.

Oikawa's parents drive them back, and Iwaizumi watches Oikawa closely, but trying to be subtle about it, though he's probably failing miserably. Oikawa and his parents are still on tense ground, embattled earth littered with verbal minefields that might blow up with a single misstep.

It's exhausting, and Iwaizumi wonders how Oikawa is holding up.

He sneaks a glance at the front seats, where Oikawa's parents are talking softly, voices blending into the rise and swell of the radio playing a classy jazz piece.

"How're you feeling?" Iwaizumi reaches over to grasp Oikawa's wrist, catching his attention.

A bitter smile curls Oikawa's lips, and he says, "Like I broke my knee and then got jumped and strangled by a passing wild dog."

Oikawa's smile turns teasing, and he lowers his head slightly to peek out at Iwaizumi from his eyelashes, "A really big, ugly, wild dog. The hospital's rules on animals aren't strict enough."

Oikawa moves his hand up to grab Iwaizumi's and curl their fingers together. Oh. Iwaizumi's throat goes dry and he clears it, saying, "Obviously, since they let … things like you in."

"They just have good judgement when it comes to me!" Oikawa says, brightly.

"Really, though. Are you still in pain or anything?"

"No, I took a painkiller an hour ago."

There's silence, and Iwaizumi imagines that their joined hands connect their souls together, a red string of fate which binds them together.

Every touch with Oikawa has taken on a new meaning, different from the casual slaps and hugs they shared when they were younger, Before. Now it's After, after Iwaizumi's sexual awakening and it's like danger and desire looming at every corner, at every contact.

It's exhilarating, and terrifying. Iwaizumi can't get enough of it, and he wonders if it's weird. Is it weird to have feelings for your best friend who also happens to be the same gender as you and will probably never return your feelings?

The thing is, Iwaizumi is 100% sure that he is a 100% straight. Until it comes to Oikawa. Oikawa is… different. He's special. Oikawa is a walking, talking contradiction, and Iwaizumi is pretty sure he has nothing straight at all for Oikawa, besides his perpetual erection, that is.

"When are you gonna…" Iwaizumi motions vaguely to the front seats, where Oikawa's parents are discussing something very passionately. "You know."

"Never." Oikawa sniffs.

"You live in the same house, idiot. You can't avoid them forever."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Urgh, Shittykawa, you gonna have to do it one day."

"…debatable."

"Besides, you know they only mean well."

Oikawa shifts uncomfortably, eyes resolutely fixed on the flashing scenery outside. Stubborn asshole.

Iwaizumi is disgusted at how fond he sounds, even in his own head.

"They're trying, too."

Iwaizumi says, softly, squeezes Oikawa's hand and is relieved when he doesn't pull away.

The rest of the ride passes in silence, and Iwaizumi holds on tight to Oikawa's hand, reveling in their shared warmth.

Iwaizumi is thoroughly screwed because he has barely started on his mountain of homework, or revised nearly enough for the tests the next day.

It's 12am, and Iwaizumi just wants to crash and sleep. His bed looks more and more inviting with every passing second.

He shuffles his worksheets, muffling a yawn and sees an envelope on his desk.

Hmm, another University scholarship letter – Iwaizumi freezes.

Iwaizumi hasn't gotten all that many sports scholarships to universities, and the ones that do offer are quite far away and not very reputable schools. On the other hand, Oikawa has received tons of such letters, to the coveted universities catering to the best and brightest.

But now…. Iwaizumi mentally curses, and panics.

Oikawa's university scholarships will probably all be retracted. He'll have to get in through pure merit and grades, like Iwaizumi.

The thing is, Iwaizumi has been mugging his ass of for the sole reason of following Oikawa. And if Oikawa isn't going to be going to some hot shot university, then what the hell is Iwaizumi studying for?

Not that Oikawa isn't a smartass who possesses hella high intelligence (which is really just unfair).

Iwaizumi sighs, cursing the universe for playing favorites and having bad taste ("Iwa-chan, such a hypocrite!"), suddenly aching to see Oikawa's stupid face even though they'd seen each other just a few hours before.

Now that Iwaizumi has is aware of and has come to terms with his libido and… well, crush, he feels much more justified missing Oikawa. Not that he didn't before.

Despite what people might say or think, Oikawa is Iwaizumi's best friend. Which means Iwaizumi does like Oikawa, and enjoys spending time with him, and misses him when they're apart. Even if they're separated by one measly fence in between their respective houses.

But now, Iwaizumi thinks perhaps he misses Oikawa more than regular best friends would. He thinks he has always been crushing on Oikawa for the longest time, just that he's been too dense to realize.

Iwaizumi groans and slams his head against his desk. He really, really should do some revision, but he can't stop thinking about Oikawa. He can't. He is physically unable to.

Man, he is totally whipped.

Iwaizumi glances out of his window by reflex and catches sight of Oikawa's window. Oikawa's curtains are drawn shut but his lights are on.

Oikawa is still awake, huh. Iwaizumi feels giddy and high and worried, like an angsty hormonal teenage girl with her very first virgin crush. Which isn't exactly untrue, but Iwaizumi isn't going to go there.

An idea sneaks into his head like a vile pest and refuses to leave, sucking on like a parasite and preying on his weakness because -

Fact: Iwaizumi is reckless when it comes to Oikawa. It's sort of like his brain short-circuits and logical reasoning is no longer able to transmit good decisions.

Evidence: Iwaizumi jumps out of his window and onto the large oak tree which, very conveniently, spans their backyards and connects their windows.

Here goes nothing, Iwaizumi thinks, and takes a leap of faith.


	10. Chapter 10

Iwaizumi hasn't done this in a few years, but his grip is strong and sure and he's crouched on Oikawa's windowsill in no time. He can still see the remnants of the tree house they built back in middle school, practically destroyed and decaying, and a smile tugs at his lips.

Good days. Good years, actually. Every year with Oikawa has been a good one. Besides this one, what with Oikawa's knee and the whole Karasuno fiasco. Iwaizumi's smile slips of his face.

Crouching on the tree and praying no one would look up and spot him, Iwaizumi raps his knuckles sharply against the glass of Oikawa's window, two short, one long, then two short again.

He stares at the baby blue alien curtains with amusement, mind flashing back to when they used to climb over to each other's rooms every night and knock on the windows with the same secret rhythm, a password of sorts.

Until their parents found out and had a major fit about it. Iwaizumi shudders at the mere memory, checking the ground below for paranoid parents anxiously.

Oikawa's window flies open without warning and Iwaizumi startles backwards, losing his balance on the thin tree branch and flailing wildly.

"Fuck fuck fuck – " Iwaizumi chokes out, heart thudding loudly in his ears and for a horrible second, thinks he is going to fall and smash onto the yard below, leaving an Iwaizumi shaped crater in the lawn. There are no branches near and the window is open too far wide for him to grab on –

"Fuck!" Oikawa joins in on the cursefest, and then there are strong arms wrapped around his torso and dragging him through the window.

Iwaizumi falls into Oikawa's room with a groan, hand smacking into something hard and sharp causing him to wince but the rest of his body is cushioned on something soft and warm and – Oikawa. Shit.

His feet are resting on the windowsill, not quite all the way in and he huffs out a wheezy chuckle at the blurry sight of his elevated feet.

"Iwa-chan, what the hell?" Oikawa's says, voice tight and angry and filled with something Iwaizumi can't quite place, but thinks it sounds somewhat like horror.

Iwaizumi jerks away reflexively from the breath of warm air that brushes against his cheek, eyes widening and scrambling up hastily.

"Shit, sorry! Did I land on your knee? Does it hurt?" Iwaizumi rambles, hands roaming over Oikawa's body to check for injuries. (And if he secretly checks out Oikawa's lean and supple thighs, well, no one but him will ever know.)

"I think it's okay." Oikawa sits up, but doesn't get back on his feet, face pale and eyes scrunched.

Iwaizumi immediately knows that he's lying, and growls.

"How much does it hurt?" Iwaizumi asks instead, ignoring the sulky glare Oikawa levels at him.

"Only a little." Oikawa huffs, crossing him arms. Iwaizumi drops to the floor next to him, careful and wary. "The real question is, since when did Iwa-chan's balance become so bad that he falls off a tree?"

"I was doing perfectly fine until you came along!"

"You knocked on my window!"

"I didn't think you'd take so long to open it."

"It's harder to walk when I have to use the bloody crutches." Oikawa scowls, and Iwaizumi notices for the first time the discarded crutches lying on either side of the window, as if thrown aside with great haste.

The sight of it makes the guilt come rushing back, stronger than before.

"Well, I didn't expect you to open the window with such force." Iwaizumi counters. "Open them like any other human being next time, would you?"

"…next time?" Oikawa eyes him speculatively, thoughtful in a way Iwaizumi can't begin to decipher. Then his mood does a complete one-eighty and he smirks, saying, "Next time, Iwa-chan should just come through the front door like the rest of us civilized humans."

"No thanks, not when you refuse to make up with your parents. It's awkward as heck."

Oikawa only scowls harder, saying, "You've known them, for like, forever."

"Anyway, don't you think it's more romantic this way? I sneak over in the middle of the night to whisk you away and this is what I get?"

There is a pause, in which Oikawa stares and Iwaizumi realizes too late that he should have gagged himself, because his mouth can't be trusted around Oikawa.

"Iwa-chan, are you flirting with me?" Oikawa's still staring at him like he's grown a second head, wide-eyed and intense, the weight of his gaze making Iwaizumi flush.

"Besides, isn't it weird if that I'm here so late? They might think I'm…" Iwaizumi rushes on, trying to salvage what's left of the situation.

Iwaizumi clamps his mouth shut firmly, the "making a move on you" going unsaid. Fuck, his own twisted mind is now making everything weird. Iwaizumi really needs to gag himself before he slips up.

Oikawa clearly suspects something, eyebrow quirked up and eyes calculative.

"Oh? Think what?"

"Nothing!" Iwaizumi's ears flame red, like the traitors they are. Shit.

"Then why – " Oikawa breaks off as someone knocks on the door.

"Tooru? Can I come in?" Oikawa's mother's voice sounds, and Iwaizumi gapes wordlessly before freaking out.

If he's caught climbing the tree again, there's no saying what misfortune will befall them, knowing the wrath of their respective parents.

Iwaizumi dives under the bed, scrabbling madly as Oikawa speaks up hurriedly.

"Oh, um, sure! Wait, let me get up first, it's so much harder to walk now that I have to use crutches, give me a few seconds."

From Iwaizumi's limited vantage point, he sees Oikawa stumble to his feet, leg almost buckling beneath him as he hastily grabs at his fallen crutches. Iwaizumi narrows his eyes. I knew it.

"Okaa-san." Oikawa opens the door, and Iwaizumi winces at hearing Oikawa's neutral I-am-angry-with-you-but-will-pretend-I'm-not voice.

"Ah, Tooru. How are you feeling?"

Iwaizumi can see Oikawa's mother shifting nervously, while Oikawa is still and unmoving.

"I'm fine."

"I heard loud noises from your room – did you fall?

"No. I just got frustrated and may or may not have thrown my crutches across the room."

"Tooru."

Disapproval. It's met with icy silence, and then she sighs.

"All right then. Why is your window open so wide?"

There's a pause, and Iwaizumi thanks his lucky stars that Oikawa is a fast thinker.

"I miss the smell of fresh, clean air, untainted by the pungent odor of antiseptic."

"… If you say so." Shuffling of clothes. Iwaizumi can almost visualize her skeptical expression, but she just doesn't want to pursue it and risk even greater tensions. "Well then… goodnight. Sleep soon."

"G'night, kaa-san."

"Call me if you need anything."

"Hai, hai~"

Then Oikawa closes the door and Iwaizumi listens to the echo of her footfalls die away, exhaling in relief.

"Shit, that was close." He groans, crawling out and flopping onto the bed. "Imagine how much shit we'd be in if she knew I climbed over."

Oikawa sniggers, carefully leaning his crutches against the wall.

"By the way, why'd you come over in the first place?" Oikawa flops down next to him, and Iwaizumi rolls over to make space with a grumble.

The instant and truthful response of "I missed you" springs to his lips, but he swallows it down almost as soon as it came, trying not to choke on his words.

Iwaizumi faces Oikawa, and with their noses millimeters apart, can see the dark eye bags under his eyes, full of fatigue and stress.

"No reason." He says slowly.

Iwaizumi thinks, on hindsight, that asking about university scholarships would only serve to stress Oikawa out even more, barely two days after he broke his knee.

It's something that they'll discuss, later. Now isn't the time.

"Really?" Oikawa's eyebrow arcs up in a disbelieving crescent. "You just… decided to climb the tree over to my room for no reason, after not doing it for five years?"

Well, maybe it was a little obvious, but Iwaizumi isn't the one who can come up with plausible excuses on the spot.

"Yeah." Iwaizumi scowls. "I think my brain must be malfunctioning."

"Uwah, Iwa-chan, what a long word! I'm surprised you know it, considering it's actually four syllables long!"

"Shut up, asshole!"

"Shh, okaa-san might come running again."

"Oh, right."

Iwaizumi lowers his voice down to what he hopes is a whisper.

"So, are you gonna tell me why you're really here?" Oikawa stares, waiting. "When you should be studying for your test tomorrow?"

"Oh, shit!" Iwaizumi bites out, appalled at himself. How could he forget?

"I still haven't finished studied for it, oh god. Urghhhhhh" He drags out, burying his face in Oikawa's pillow, which smells really nice. Oikawa's bed is also really comfortable.

Iwaizumi yawns, "I better go ba- baaaack and finish it."

"You had the whole weekend to study." Oikawa points out, poking Iwaizumi in the cheek accusingly, knowing full well just why Iwaizumi's weekend was unexpectedly busy.

"Obviously, I had other things to do." Iwaizumi gripes, catching Oikawa's fingers in his own and feels momentarily elated at being able to hold hands again. School girl with a crush, indeed.

"Like what?" Oikawa smirks at him. "Like me?"

Iwaizumi's breath catches in his throat as he tries not to be very visibly affected by Oikawa's teasing.

Yes, like you. I would do you all day long if I could.

"Tch." Is the extent of Iwaizumi's repertoire of sassy verbal comebacks, and Oikawa laughs, low and soft and warm.

It makes Iwaizumi's heart swell in his chest. It is a sound he'll kill to hear again.

"You need to work on your sassy comebacks if you want to woo me properly." Oikawa turns up his nose and sticks his tongue out childishly.

"Who said I wanted to woo you?!"

"Just now! You said you were here to whisk me away." Oikawa whispers. "You better make good on that."

"Yeah," Iwaizumi says, "Okay."

Oikawa smiles brightly and snuggles closer. "It's a promise!"

Iwaizumi's ears burn and he feels so ridiculously happy that he has to turn away so Oikawa won't see him grinning like a maniac. This kind of happiness is overwhelming and pervasive, and Iwaizumi is drunk on it.

"My unfinished work…" Iwaizumi grumbles half-heartedly, eyes already drooping closed, yet makes no move to leave. His work can wait. Iwaizumi, for one, is going to prioritize his life love and libido.

"Oh, Iwa-chan, I never got to tell you, but the food at the hospital was horrendous! I swear, they don't feed us nearly enough! And it tastes so bad!" Oikawa rambles on, never seeming to notice Iwaizumi smiling at him, eyes soft in a way that he'd never been caught dead doing.

Iwaizumi rests their linked hands between their faces and wraps the other around Oikawa's waist, like he's done so many times before.

It isn't weird. It's natural, if bittersweet, and Iwaizumi drifts off to the comforting cadence of Oikawa's familiar voice, wrapped in the arms of his crush who would never be his.


	11. Chapter 11

"Iwa-chan~~"

Iwaizumi is suffused with warmth, can feel the inviting heat of someone next to him.

"Iwa-chan, wake up."

Iwaizumi doesn't want to wake up. He wants to burrow back into the heat and lie there for all eternity.

"Mnggnh," He mumbles thickly, wrapping his arms around the heat radiator and nuzzling close, throwing a leg over and pulling it towards him.

"Hahhaaa, Iwa-chan, tickles!"

Iwaizumi flinches and is startled into bewildered wakefulness as someone slaps his side, opening his eyes to the spectacle that is Oikawa Tooru, Eye Candy Extraordinaire.

Mm, he thinks, nice, about to fall right back to sleep when he realizes that said eye candy is less than two millimeters away, staring down at him with wide brown eyes.

In another person, Iwaizumi would label the expression as fond tenderness, but in Oikawa it's just one of familiar amusement. Amusement, because Oikawa has an annoying tendency of viewing people as entertainment.

Iwaizumi's legs are tangled with Oikawa's, and they're wrapped so closely together Iwaizumi feels like he's waking up in the middle of the sun, because Oikawa has an insanely high metabolic rate and gives off heat like nobody's business.

This would be a very nice thing to wake up to, if Iwaizumi isn't 100% sure he's going to pop a boner in the next minute if Oikawa doesn't get his knee out of between his goddamn legs.

"GUH!" Iwaizumi flings himself backwards – or tries to, only managing to crack his skull against the wall and drive Oikawa's knee harder against a very sensitive part of his male autonomy. "GUH."

And then it's like his brain is suddenly working again, because his thought processes are up and running and –

"SHITTYKAWA I'M LATE FOR SCHOOL!"

Oikawa bursts into laughter, clutching his stomach and wheezing with the sheer force of his mirth. Iwaizumi's fingers twitch at the tempting thought of acquainting his fist rather intimately with Oikawa's face.

It's already nine o'clock and goddamnit Iwaizumi is going to be in soooo much trouble. He curses under his breath as he clambers awkwardly over Oikawa, taking care not to hit his injured knee, so focused that he's completely taken by surprise when Oikawa suddenly sits up.

Iwaizumi falls off the bed, crashing into Oikawa's crutches and landing in a heap on the floor, groaning miserably.

He definitely got out of the wrong side of the bed this morning. Heck, he shouldn't even have been in this bed in the first place.

"Trashykawa, what was that for?"

"I was going to move out of the way! I didn't think Iwa-chan was such a klutz that he'd fall over and hurt himself!"

"I'm not hurt, you idiot!"

"For someone who's not hurt, you're sure moaning a lot." Oikawa has his familiar smirk directed at Iwaizumi, who immediately thinks oh shit that's cute, before his common sense catches up with his libido and gives it a well deserved mental smack.

"Yeah, in pain, because some asshole shoved me out of the bed onto his bloody crutches when I'm two hours late for school!" Iwaizumi injects as much venom as he can into his voice as he picks himself off the floor.

"Anyway, see you later – " Iwaizumi opens the door and runs out, right smack into Mayumi-san's plentiful bosom.

"Shit! I'm so sorry!" Iwaizumi's fast reflexes save her from face-planting into the floor, reaching out and steadying her quickly. "Are you alright?"

Oikawa's mother nods, mentally noting Iwaizumi's sleep ruffled hair and crumpled clothing, reaching a rather accurate and unfortunate conclusion.

"Hajime! What are you doing here?" She folds her arms and stares, MOM voice at level 108394098.

Iwaizumi freezes, mind grinding to a complete halt, and panics, probably very obviously. Fuck.

"I – uh – we " He fumbles for an innocent explanation which does not involve climbing the tree in the middle of the night for no reason at all, and comes up blank.

"I came to visit Oikawa?" Iwaizumi swings up in a question, fidgeting non-stop as he glares at Oikawa laughing at his misery and failure. That traitor.

"Oh, you came to visit Tooru, did you, Hajime-kun?" Oikawa's mother says, sarcasm dripping from her voice, sounding so uncannily like Oikawa that Iwaizumi winces. "When you should be at school this very moment?"

"… that's right." Iwaizumi has no choice but to lie down in the grave he dug himself into and hope that death comes swiftly and painlessly.

"Then why do you look like you slept together?" Oikawa's mother asks, gaze lingering obviously on his rumpled clothing. Iwaizumi chokes.

"We didn't! I mean, we did but – we didn't - !" He splutters, face turning an embarrassing red again. "Gah!"

He turns and flees from the devil and his mother, although he's starting to reconsider which one is the actual devil. Probably both.

"Iwa-chan, so mean, denying our night of heated passion~" Oikawa's voice floats from his room, breathless with laughter and tingles runs down Iwaizumi's spine at the mere sound. He shudders, legs pumping as he thunders down the stairs, and into the blessed silence of the street.

Sighing, he enters his house and readies himself for the interrogation that is sure to follow.

* * *

"Wow, someone sure is late today." Hanamaki says later, in the locker room after volleyball practice when they're all changing. Iwaizumi pulls his sweaty shirt over his head and shrugs.

"I woke up late."

"By the way, where's Oikawa?" Matsukawa joins in the conversation. "Why didn't he come today?"

"Have yall made up?" Hanamaki asked.

Iwaizumi pauses. They'll find out either way, and there's no reason to hide it, but Oikawa will probably want to tell them in person.

"Oikawa… won't be coming for a few days." Iwaizumi says carefully. "To school. And volleyball practice."

"What? Why?" Hanamaki frowns, giving Iwaizumi an accusatory stare.

"No, it's not because of me." Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, then sobers. "Not really, anyway."

"Wow, did your face really scare him off so much?" Mastukawa jokes, wriggling his eyebrows, "Or did you guys have a wild night yesterday which… put him out of commission and made you late for class?"

Matsukawa's jibe hits a little too close to home and Iwaizumi flinches, cursing his violent blush. Goddamn Oikawa's mother for making it out to be much more scandalous than it actually was.

It was more of a cuddling session than anything else. Entirely innocent, enjoyable and PG cuddling. Iwaizumi feels warm all over just thinking about it, and he aches to fall asleep in Oikawa's arms again.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa gapes at him incredulously for a moment before turning to each other, utterly dumbfounded.

"I can't believe it! I thought for sure those two idiots would be just dumbly pining for ever– "

"and continue being totally oblivious - "

"and never even hold hands until they're both twenty five – "

"and only kiss at forty – "

"and only fuck at – "

"Okay, that's enough, I get it." Iwaizumi interrupts, scowling. Their words sink in then and he yelps.

"What? Did you say I like Oikawa? And… Oikawa likes me?"

"Whaat? Noooo. Of course not. We didn't say anything like that, did we?" Hanamaki widens his eyes at Matsukawa, who nods vigorously, turning to Iwaizumi with a bullshit expression of sincerity Iwaizumi would be able to smell from a country over with wax plugged up his nose. "Nope, nothing at all! Why would you think that?"

Matsukawa's expression turns thoughtful and he asks, "Do you like Oikawa?"

Iwaizumi frowns at the sudden change in tone, and shrugs. "Yeah, sure."

"Iwaizumi, so romantic." Hanamaki mutters, and Matsukawa slaps him on the head.

"Like, how much do you like him?" Matsukawa presses. Iwaizumi shifts his weight nervously, the line of questioning veering too close to dangerous territory he doesn't want to go near a ten mile radius of.

Suddenly realizing you're gay for your best friend of almost your whole life is not something Iwaizumi feels comfortable sharing so casually, even if Hanamaki and Matsukawa are his close friends.

"I think I'm starting to like him more and more with every second I'm spending here listening to your bullshit." Iwaizumi deadpans, stripping down to his boxers and quickly changing up.

Hanamaki grins, laying the back of his hand dramatically on his forehead as he swoons and cries, "Iwa-chan, so mean!"

Iwaizumi shudders at how Hanamaki's voice becomes high and piercing, somehow managing to become a mocking caricature of Oikawa's typical whine, uncanny and unsettling in its accuracy.

Matsukawa wraps his arms around Hanamaki's waist, saying in a low gravelly voice, "Shittykawa, let's fuck."

Hanamaki gives a high pitched giggle. "Oh Iwa-chan, I love your eloquence!"

They make obscene kissy noises at each other, causing Iwaizumi's eyelid to twitch in annoyance. He wonders how much force he has to hit them with to ensure they're physically unable to continue annoying the living daylights out of him.

"Oh, Iwa-chan!" Hanamaki mock groans.

"Ah, Shittykawa!" Matsukawa moans loudly, drawing stares from Yahaba and Kyoutani.

"Iwa-chan!"

"Shittykawa!"

"IWA-CHAN!"

"SHITTY – "

"I SWEAR TO GOD, IF YOU DON'T STOP MOANING RIGHT NOW, I'LL KNOCK ALL OF YOUR TEETH OUT!" Iwaizumi roars, tackling them to the ground violently, sending the bench crashing to the side.

Hanamaki gives Iwaizumi his signature shit-eating grin from where he's half-pinned under Iwaizumi's bulk, fluttering his eyelashes obnoxiously and saying, "Iwa-chan… be gentle! It's my first time!"

Iwaizumi grins suddenly and viciously, all teeth, clenching his fist and drawing it back.

"You asked for it, fuckers."

A few well-placed punches should be more than enough.

Extra:

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Iwaizumi, not there, not the balls, think of the children, ack - "


End file.
